All is still good, yesterday was the first in weeks that I’ve felt normal – good even. The kids worked hard, I felt effective for a change, and I made it to the late afternoon before crashing. Hopefully a tiny preview of what’s to come! Because it felt amazing!

Boy have I paid the price today. This is a lovely milestone – I threw up while brushing my teeth. WTF! Anyway, that’s revolting, so no more about that. Still trying to get through this wretched essay. I force out about 100 words, then feel an overwhelming need to nap. Very efficient!

All seems to be going well in Fuzzy Land, hooray! I have my first obstetrician appointment on Monday, and I’m really hoping he has an US machine so I can have another peek. Toying with the idea of getting a Doppler, but not sure if the tummy flub will stop it from working well, and therefore stress me out. Maybe no news is good news?

I truly do not know where the week has gone. I have had a series of days where it gets to 4pm and I suddenly realise that I haven’t even managed to get to the bathroom.

As far as the crazeh hormones go, I *finally* feel more like myself. AF was the longest it has ever been (7 full days), and I have been a mopey sad sack all week. Can’t imagine what bigger doses will do to me!

I’m not sure what our plan will be for the rest of the year. We’re going to do a dIUI cycle again next month (Sept-Oct) which gives us another chance the next month (Oct-Nov). The question is, will we be able to fit in an IVF this year? Do we skip the Oct-Nov IUI and go straight to IVF? (Can we even afford to do this??)

It seems so silly to have a deadline, but sadly our funds are (of course) heavily restricted, and knowing that we would get back 80% of our out of pocket expenses for IVF, and have some frosties (Please just go with my wishful thinking here) before the Medicare changes kick in in January, would be such a relief.

Advice??

Does it mean I have truly gone loopy and pessimistic to have a plan B, C, and D?

Argh, sooo tired (after 9 hours of sleep). Sooo hungry (after 2 lunches and 4 bottles of water). Sooo Irritable. My memory is ridiculous. I walk into rooms and forget why I’m there. A little crampy still, but really I think I’m just thinking these things into existence. I have really sore sinuses, but its probably just dehydration from the heaters. Freezing here today.

This feels an awful lot like PMS.

I’m sitting at my desk, waiting for the bell to go in ten minutes, and I’m really wondering how I’m going to make it home without a nap.

Work was completely awful today.

When I was having all these issues at the end of last term (when my teaching partner up and left), I was told that I would have lots more support. Well that hasn’t happened. One of the people I teach with now, who is the coordinator, likes to bring her laptop and her marking into the room with her, meaning that I have to teach and control 40 kids. You can imagine how well that works. I am doing 98% of the load that should be shared by 4 people.

I can never get over how incredibly selfish the kids are. I know that sounds crazy, because of course I am talking about year sevens – teenagers – of course they’re bloody selfish, it’s their job! But they are terrible. They can’t even watch a movie that has been put on for them.Soo self righteous, demanding, and obnoxious.

Whinge Whinge Whinge…

I’m going home to see my husband for the first time since Sunday, and to have a sleep.

In the second week of the holidays, we had our first counselling appointment for our fertility treatment. Weirdly, this didnt bother me. Ordinarily, I have no time for psychologists, and perhaps this was pretty obvious, because she hardly bothered to ask me any questions.

She suggested while we were speaking with her that it would be a good idea to attend the donor gametes seminar at the Hospital the following evening. Obligingly, we agreed.

The seminar was relatively interesting – but honestly, I am surprised at how boring I find the process. I know what to expect, I know what is involved, We have made our decisions, and just want to get on with it. The speakers at the seminar were of varying quality – the first man, the husband of an egg recipient, was very moving in his words, and quite inspiring. The second, a mother of twins also produced by donor eggs, was abrasive, negative, and divisive.

“Would I do it again? No.”

Easily said by someone who has two beautiful babies. She was so anti-the whole process that my sympathy actually went out to the third speaker, an egg donor herself, who got up and told us all how easily having babies had been for her, and that was why she wanted to help out.

Overall, our impression of the whole deal was that while very interesting, and raising some interesting ideas, it was almost irrelevant for us.

The following week, the first back at school (which… is going… Well! Kind of…) was our second counselling session, and the chance for us to choose our donor. This was ridiculously easy. There was a choice of about 20, we went to the tallest, and said done. From here on the entire process seems a little surreal. I had been wondering how we would decided on the ‘person’ who would provide the genetic material for our child. As it turns out, they provide you with so little information, it may as well be a random choice.

My greatest anger at that point was the requirement for Vic couples to undergo police checks and child protection checks prior to commencing fertility treatment (keep in mind that both of us already have working with children checks – I’m a registered teacher!!). The counsellor pointed out that it was because the government does not want to be seen to be providing funded fertility treatment to criminals… which, i can understand, but sheesh… what about providing public hospital beds to bogan mothers when they have their 5th baby, when they have a history of drug abuse and child harming? How is this any less wrong?

Our specialist appointment was scheduled for the following day, and we had organised the logistics carefully. Upon arriving just after 4, and announcing our arrival, we were informed that our Doctor does not see patients at that clinic on Thursdays, that he sees them only in the city! We rang the city office to confirm, and yes, the receptionist had booked us in at the wrong place, and we were now going to miss that appointment.

I was disproportionately angry, and I still couldn’t tell you why. I *think* it is because I had visions of this putting us back months. When you’re ready, you’re ready, and I wanted to have a plan! We made the next available appointment (for yesterday) in the city.

Getting into the city by 9:15 was always going to be a challenge, but we made it, and found parking, with about 5 minutes to spare. We met with the doctor, and informed him firstly that we were going to do IUI rather than IVF, and that I was on CD1.

Well, this is where the rollercoaster started! Suddenly, he was on the phone, organising a rush-appointment with the nurse, blood tests, paperwork, rush, rush rush! He did manage to inform me that I am tending towards PCOS, which is truly unsurprising. 5 minutes and $90 later, we were heading up to Vampire nurse.

We had our activation interview, and were advised to take home the DVD teaching me how to do my injectables – I had thought I would be doing a non-stim cycle, but it turns out that they always start out IUI with a low dose of Puregon to ensure ovulation.

I was pleasantly surprised when she put the needle in for my blood test, but as she was taking it out, I have no idea what she did, but it was incredibly painful! Within 5 minutes, it was obvious that I was going to have a very colourful (and paimful!) souvenir of my visit.

We managed to get an appointment at our regular clinic to meet with the nurse today, to collect our drugs. I’ve never done anything so seedy, handing over that much cash, and being given a bag full of drugs and syringes!

Understanding Tashish

I'm a 28 year old teacher from Melbourne.
Mr G. and I have been married since April '09, and have always known that having a family was going to be a little more difficult than for the 'average' person, due to his Klinefelter's Syndrome.
We have been on a financially enforced 'break' from IVF since our miscarriage in late 2009. We hoped to cycle again in 2011, but pushed it out to early 2012.
It looks like this might be the one...
This is our story.

A Brief History of our TTC journey

September '06~ Meet Mr G, who tells me he has Klinefelter's (KFS) and will never be a father. Ever the eternal optimist, "never say never" say I.
Early '07~ Realise that this thing is for real, and start to look into MFI related to KFS. I am reassured by vague, sci-fi like stories of ICSI, and the Dr Google consensus that 'it's not impossible'. We try.
Nov '07~ Visit to the Endo for routine KFS checkup, obtain a referral to FS.
Dec '07~ Mr G proposes, and life goes all-wedding, all-time. We keep trying.
Late '08~ When it becomes obvious that it's not 'just going to happen', we make our first FS appointment, where it becomes clear that we will need help. Azoospermia, and a side order of suspected PCOS.
April' 09~ Our wedding
July/Aug '09 ~ IUI + injectables + donor sperm. AF arrives before beta.
September '09~ Book in for IVF
Oct '09 ~ Waiting, waiting, waiting... AF is almost a fortnight late
Nov/Dec '09 ~ IVF + ICSI + Donor Sperm. Stim for ages, poor response, threatened with cancellation. 2 eggs retrieved, 1 fertilised. 2 day, 4 cell, Grade B transfer. Faint Positive, Low first beta. Wait for appropriate HCG doubling. Levels are great, then that night the unthinkable happens.
Friday, 11th of December~ Our precious miracle is leaving.